Sacred drum is our mother; mother is sacred drum, both the same, beating together. In between, we stand in between two mothers, mother and drum. And between these two mothers is the beating heart, finding its way home.
Bring this out, let it be seen; by you and by me.
As sound finding its way home, draw it out as a forgotten child. Remember, remember, and put it together, like the notes on a flute are a fluid chain of pearls. But these pearls on the drum are different, they mimic and follow the heart, one at a time, one moment, one beat at a time. Constant, consistent, always, from before birth the pearls have arisen; at what point in your making did your heart begin to beat?
Sacred drum listens inside; searches inside the sound from the heart beat like fingers stretching. Drum seeking the sacred sound inside.
Moving as every cell moves, as every thought ventures, as each tooth strikes, as bone connects to bone, as food churning in the gut and eyes flicker in unison, flow of gurgling blood back and then on and forward, breath upon breath, touching foot on soil and laughter as you put on a sock, every tear that flows, each tap of finger on the text…these all are mother drum beating; in and for life.
With the Sacred drum we are finding the way, only just beginning, just babies learning; where are the elders to teach us, where have they gone? Are we them now, is it us who beat the drum for the children? Are we grown enough, are we ready, can we hold the beat?
Where do we start? We start at the beginning, being gentle, right now. It is our birthday each morning and a good day to start. Lifting drum and holding the beater. Wife and man, mother and lover the two are meeting, the two are mating, gently loving in intimate touch; finding each other as equals, a becoming in the sacred sound of a moving moment.
It begins now, starting, seeking, yearning and looking. Put it together, each beat, each move of hand on drum. Drum is our mother, we are her children. Sacred drum, call mother in, through and out, each and every beat, each feeling touch, we can own her love, her word. So gentle and soft is her love inside and all around. In all life, it is her, the mother of all, she speaks.
She listens also, through you into her. Come home, come with me, we can do it together. We can beat on the common drum of the heart. We can beat together, we can listen and we can talk as a family, within the sacred drum. Drum is sacred, she is our mother.
Grandfather and father told me this, she is our mother.This entry was posted in Blog, and tagged Uster, Trommeln, Event, Trommellehrer, Trommelkurse, Kurse, Workshop, Teamentwicklung, Afrikanische Rhythmen, Djembe, Congas, Einzelunterricht, Trommelevents in Firmen und Schulen,. Bookmark the permalink.